54. Kendra
Kendra
Ican feel the chilly breeze from the salty ocean air and hear the waves, so I know that Eli’s brought us to a beach. The idea of stepping foot onto sand with him again is both thrilling and heartbreaking.
I want to tell him that I can’t do it and get back in the truck.
I also want to run headlong into the ocean and baptize my bad memories away in the freezing ocean spray.
But I know neither option will solve the roiling in my soul.
There are so many things that I need to tell Eli, and I don’t know where to start. His warm calloused hand is tucked safely around my body as he guides me across the uneven sand. My feet fumble beneath me, but I have no fear of falling knowing the man next to me has me safely in his grasp.
Safe isn’t a word I would have placed next to Eli not that long ago.
Yes, he’s a firefighter, the literal epitome of a hero and safe person to others.
The rescuer. The community golden boy. But to me .
. . to me he was my own personal hurricane.
A CAT 3 storm. Enough to be extremely dangerous, a higher risk of causing major damage, but still survivable.
Because he did devastate me once, ripped me to pieces and caused damage and scars that only I know are there.
Loss of life happened, even though I know now it wasn’t my fault and it truly wasn’t his fault either.
Sounds of crashing surf break my thoughts as Eli says, “Wait here a second and don’t take that off yet!” knowing I was dying to tug the covering from my eyes.
Rustling sounds come from next to me, along with a few curse words muttered under Eli’s breath, which makes me giggle. I really wish I could see him, but I am just as excited to know that he had put some serious thought and effort into this date, so a few more minutes of patience will be worth it.
Feeling his strong, warm body come up behind me, I lean into him.
Eli runs his large hands up and down my arms, a warm comfort pouring into me, but his words make me shiver when he says, “I hope that bringing you here is okay. I want us to have a fresh start, and this is the spot that always meant the most to us.”
I know where we are before he even slips the bandanna off.
Yes, it is the beach. But not just any beach along the shores of Virginia.
Eli brought me back to our hidden cove.
Looking down at the sand, I gasp at the familiar faded blue-and-white blanket that we spent countless hours on here at the beach, in the bed of Eli’s old truck, in fields off back roads. Any place we could be alone together.
“Come on.” Eli guides me to the blanket, and we sink down next to each other.
He has a cute, lidded picnic basket that he set up for us. A small tray with plastic, stemless wineglasses, a fresh bottle of wine, strawberries, an assortment of chocolates, some cheese and crackers, and his phone is playing some soft music.
Seagulls are lazily dancing above the water and diving over the sand, calling out to one another, their wild squawks carried off in the wind.
We settle on our spot just in time to watch the sun start to cast the sky in the most stunning sunset, painting the sky a brilliant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples that no artwork, camera, or description could ever truly capture.
Some things in nature are just meant to be experienced, felt, absorbed, and totally appreciated in that very moment.
Burned into your memory so viscerally that when you need it all you have to do is shut your eyes, take a deep breath and remember.
You may not be able to get the exact image, it’s colors and landscape fuzzy around the edges of time .
. . but you know how you felt, how important and vivid that snapshot was to have carried it so close to your heart all throughout the years, and how it changed you in one way or another.
I had so many of those snapshots with the man sitting next to me now but had kept them locked up tight for so long because pulling them out for any kind of reflection was too painful.
It just became easier to pretend that all I held in my heart for him was hate.
Tears swim in my eyes as I get lost in the view, and as a second warm blanket comes around my shoulders, Eli says, “Sweetheart, please tell me what you’re thinking?”
“Why did you bring me here?” I look at him, searching for truth.
“Sometimes I come here, alone, when I want to feel close to you. For years and years I have sat on this beach, Kendra, and regretted the last time we were here together because I made such a big mistake. Today, I just didn’t want to sit on our beach alone anymore.
” Eli looks at me and I can see the pain of the past nine years swelling there in the tears that are about to fall.
That was not what I expected him to say, but it ruins any chance I have of pretending anymore. That he doesn’t impact every aspect of my life. That everything changed after that day. That I have any hope of holding up my mask for him anymore.
Sobs shake my body and tears flow down my face.
Eli wraps his strong body around me, and he is tense, like the rocks that shelter us from the harsh wind.
I feel like I am on the edge of a panic attack, my body is gasping for air—for the deep breath that I’ve been longing to take for all these years but have been unable to find in the loneliness.
Thinking about it just makes me cry harder.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Eli soothes, rubbing my back in slow calming strokes. “You’re safe, breathe. I’m right here. I promise, I promise I won’t let go this time.”
“No,” I manage to choke out. My breaths finally start to even out.
“You’re mine, Kendra. Always have been. It just took me some time for my dumbass head to catch up to my heart.” Eli wipes the tears from my cheeks as I watch one roll down his own.
“You don’t want me,” I protest.
“I absolutely do. Shit, sweetheart. Planned on doing this so slow. But you need to know that I’m here this time, and I’m not going to push you away.
I am not going to do what I did before and send you out into the world, into the arms of other men thinking anyone but me would be better for you.
” There is a pleading in his eyes, like he needs me to understand what happened here all these years ago, and I think I am starting to.
“You were scared?”
“Terrified.”
“I told you that . . . that I loved you.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, and I hate repeating them.
“And I didn’t think I deserved love from anyone, least of all the most incredible girl I had ever known. I thought I would ruin you. That it’s in my DNA.” Eli shakes his head.
“You are not him, Eli,” I say with ferocity.
“I know that now, sweetheart. And that is why I am begging you for a second chance. One that I probably don’t deserve.
But, I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else now.
I want to go back and kick the ass of any guy that has ever touched you, tasted you, loved you since the day I ruined us. ”
My chest heaves at his admission. Not because I’m afraid of his words or the implied violence, but because they make me feel happy and cared for. And I also know what I’m about to say is going to shock him . . .
“There is nobody else, has never been anybody else,” I whisper, looking down at the sand.
“Excuse me?” Eli tips my chin up so he can see my eyes.
“You heard me, Hulk.”
“That can’t be right.” The look of shock on his face is definitely a snapshot memory being burned into my mind right now.
Snorting, I say, “Yeah, it is. I think that I would know.”
“But all our friends and so many people ask you for relationship advice?” he argues.
“Because I’m smart, a good listener, and empathetic. It has nothing to do with how many people I have slept with.”
I roll my eyes.
He lets out a growl.
“No need to act like a caveman, it’s only been you.” I pat his muscled chest.
“Why?” Eli asks, with genuine confusion.
“It’s a complicated answer, one I’m not sure I’m ready to give you all the answers to tonight. It is our first date after all.” I bite my lip.
“Fair enough,” he concedes.
“I will say, though, it makes it hard for me. The idea of taking things further, having sex with you again. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” I admit.
Eli tugs me between his legs, leaning back, and we watch as the sun sinks lower, the sky a brighter pink sherbet mix that I wish my damndest I could capture on a mug just by dipping it straight into the colors.
“We can take this as slow as you want to, Kendra, as long as we are taking steps together. I want this. I want us. Do you?” Eli asks the million-dollar question.
“Yes, I want this too,” I admit.
Eli grins, then kisses the hell out of me on the beach where he once broke my heart . . . and here he is fusing it back together with his golden light while I am placing it right back into his hands, praying I am not being foolish.